


October Short Fics Collection

by neverthelessthesun



Category: Captain America (Movies), Iron Man (Movies), Marvel, Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Fantasy, Alternate Universe - Soulmates, Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Angst, Blushing Steve Rogers, Bottom Steve Rogers, Bottom Tony Stark, Breathplay, Civil War who? idk her, Cock Worship, Comfort, Coming Out, Cuddling & Snuggling, Dealing with Homophobia, Deepthroating, Desperation, Disabled Character, Domestic Avengers, Established Relationship, Everything is Beautiful and Nothing Hurts, Ficlet, Ficlet Collection, First Kiss, First Time, Fluff and Crack, Food, Frottage, Grinding, Gyms, Howard Stark's A+ Parenting, Hurt Tony Stark, Hurt/Comfort, Implied/Referenced Alcohol Abuse/Alcoholism, James "Rhodey" Rhodes & Tony Stark Friendship, Kid Tony Stark, Lust, M/M, Nicknames, Nightmares, Oral Sex, Pining, Popsicles, Pre-Relationship, Prosthesis, Protective Steve, Rants, References to the Broadway Musical Wicked, Religious Discussion, Riding, Rough Sex, Size Kink, Size Queen Tony Stark, Smoking, Smut, Sparring, Sweat, Sweet, Switching, Tony Stark Gets a Hug, Tony Stark Needs a Hug, Top Steve Rogers, Top Tony Stark, Wingfic, and a literal big dick, big dick energy, implied - Freeform, not every ficlet will be b!steeb tho I like to switch it up, tony looks hot in a tank top ok
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-10-01
Updated: 2018-10-11
Packaged: 2019-07-23 13:52:09
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 11
Words: 4,706
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16160225
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/neverthelessthesun/pseuds/neverthelessthesun
Summary: Tags will be updated as more ficlets are added. I'm hoping to write every day in October 2018.





	1. Day One: Fear

**Author's Note:**

> Hi, and thanks for clicking!
> 
> I want to be writing regularly, so I challenged myself to write at least 300 words every day for the month of October. We will see how far it goes, but I'm really wanting to stick to it!
> 
> Day 1: Fear. Deals with homophobia and being in the public eye.  
> Day 2: Preparation. Bottom Steve getting ready to ride Tony.  
> Day 3: Childhood. Kid!Tony sees footage of Cap for the first time, and finds out they're soulmates.  
> Day 4: Sweet. Tony loves popsicles.  
> Day 5: Sexy. Steve has a religious experience involving a hot and sweaty Tony.  
> Day 6: Deep. Deepthroating Tony loves Steve's cock.  
> Day 7: Blush. Steve is hung. Pre-Bottom Tony and switching.  
> Day 8: Fight. Tony rants to Rhodey about just how unfair Steve Rogers is.  
> Day 9: Costume. Wingfic where they're both sure their wings don't match.  
> Day 10: Dream. Steve helps Tony out of a nightmare.  
> Day 11: Lie. What if Obie wasn't found out in his betrayal until after Steve was out of the ice?

Tony sometimes found it frustrating to explain his relationship to other people. There was so much misinformation, so many ignorant people, it made him want to say _fuck them all_ and just never explain anything again. 

But, as Steve was quick to remind him, things would never change unless things were demystified and people could be educated. Steve was so good at thinking about the big picture like that.

So, Tony stuck it out and answered the stupid questions. 

“Do you still have sex with other people?”

“Even if that was any of your business, it still wouldn’t matter. Straight people have open relationships too, and God doesn’t smite any of _them_ with brimstone.”

“Why do you want to be married?”

“Why do _you_ want to be married? I mean, aside from hoping to trap a woman into staying with you longer. Obviously they don’t stay long otherwise, not with that halitosis going on.”

“But who ‘wears the pants’ in the relationship?”

“If anyone is wearing pants while they’re not in public, they aren’t living their best lives. I feel sorry for you sad, pants-wearing people.”

“Are you afraid kids will grow up to be gay because you’re so publicly out?”

“You mean, am I looking forward to a world where every queer kid can come out and not feel ashamed? Abso-fucking-loutely.”

Of course, just because he answered the questions doesn’t mean he was nice about it. 

Steve would sometimes catch his eye when one of his audio clips would play on the news, or when some blue-faced bible-thumping lunatic would spit out his name like a curse word. He would raise one perfect eyebrow, as if in disapproval, but Tony could see the smile playing at the corners of his mouth. 

Then he would go back to reading the paper, blessedly (truthfully) pants-less in their living room, while Tony fiddled with some gadget or other across from him. The evening would draw on comfortably long, like an old movie you know the lines to. Tony would stretch and get up, and Steve would follow him, and they would curl around one another in bed, and Tony couldn’t help thinking that _this_ was why he put up with the press and the paparazzi. This moment, and moments like these for every out person and every closeted person, were why he was so unapologetically loud. Because everyone deserved to have this moment, even Tony Stark. Even him. 

_Even you._


	2. Day Two: Preparation

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Steve preps to ride Tony. That’s it, that’s the ficlet.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It was only a matter of time before it got porny. 
> 
> This ficlet was inspired by an anon who asked Sabrecmc on tumblr if there were any good Steve-Riding-Tony fics. I couldn’t not do it. 
> 
> Tags are updated, and will continue to update with each chapter.

“Nngh!” 

Tony writhes under Steve, trapped between the mattress at his back and the undulating of Steve’s hips. Their bare cocks slide together, the most glorious tease, as the rhythm never falters and Tony whines high in his throat. Steve jumped him almost without warning, getting them both naked with military efficiency. But even though they’ve only just started, Tony feels the sweat at the small of his back and matting his hair to his forehead. 

“Like that?” Steve asks coyly from his position straddling Tony’s thighs, keeping him pinned right where he wants him. 

Tony tried to give a snarky reply, but all that he could manage was another strangled moan. 

“I’m gonna ride you,” Steve tells him, and it sounds like a promise. “I’m gonna feel you so deep in me.”

Tony nods desperately, doing his level best to arch into the grinding thrusts Steve is giving. When they slow and stop, he groans out a protest. 

The next moment, he doesn’t really care anymore, because Steve is bracing himself on Tony’s chest with one hand, and reaching behind himself with the other. He doesn’t flinch as he slides what must be two fingers in to the hilt, bearing down and sighing. It’s the hottest thing Tony has ever seen. 

Steve breathes deep through his nose, inhaling, his back arched to give himself a better angle as he fucks his own fingers. He starts up his teasing, slow grinding again, making Tony moan. 

“Can’t wait to take you into me,” Steve rumbles. “You feel amazing in me, every time. It’s addicting.” 

“Jesus Christ, Steve,” Tony groans. “Your dirty talk. Gets me so hot.”

Steve smiles beatifically down. “I know,” he said, and his voice was a little breathy. The first sign that he is as affected as Tony. “I want you good and worked up for me.”

Tony gasps as Steve gets up on his knees, hovering above him now. “That’s enough,” he decides, and with no other warning, he takes Tony’s cock by the base and lines it up with his hole. 

Steve sinks down like a pro, never slowing, his channel a vise. Tony has to gasp for air like a fish, breathing though the urge to come immediately. Not very attractive. 

But Steve is smiling, Steve is brushing his hair out of his eyes, Steve is bottoming out and holding still, giving them both a few moments to get used to this again, this crystalline intimacy. 

 

“Steve,” Tony whispers like a prayer. 

“Mm,” Steve responds. 

“Ride me.”

And he does.


	3. Day Three: Childhood

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Tony loves Captain America, but he's never seen Steve Rogers before.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This one is so bittersweet jfc

The first time Tony locked eyes with Captain America, he knew. 

He was five, and his father had gotten out the old war bonds reels. It was dark in the parlor, the shades drawn. He was playing around with some batteries and wires from Howard’s scrap pile, ignoring the cloying smell of bourbon and cigar smoke. 

Howard was ignoring him, too, which was really par for the course. The reels came out and father couldn’t think of anything else. 

Usually Maria would come in and shake her head, pull Tony away before the more violent clips began. But Tony’s parents had been screaming, last night, and Maria was in Paris now, so Tony was alone with his father. 

So, Tony saw the war footage. He saw the men struggling and the planes taking off, and then he saw the cowl, the stripes. He saw the shield.

Tony had a Captain America poster hanging over his bed. He had the comic books, though Howard kept them in plastic sleeves and told him he could read them when he was older. He’d heard story after story, he knew everything there was for a five year old boy to know about the good Captain. 

But the moment he saw Captain America’s face on that projector screen, Tony knew beyond a shadow of a doubt that this was his soulmate. 

He smiled so wide it felt like his face would split in two. “That’s Captain America!” He told his father excitedly, pointing. “He’s amazing, and he–”

“Yes, boy, shut your mouth,” Howard growled. His face looked drawn and off-color. “Steve Rogers was...he was the best damn man that ever lived. The best damn man.”

Tony fell silent and looked back to the man on the screen. Steve Rogers was motioning to the soldiers behind him, leading them onward to some unknown battle. He looked tired, but stalwart, and when he glanced over his shoulder, he grinned. Tony knew he would never see a smile as pretty as that one. 

He didn’t take the time to realize that his soulmate was gone, dead or lost in the ocean. He didn’t ruminate over the many years that had passed since Steve Rogers had been declared MIA, nor did he consider how impossible it would be to meet him. He was only five, after all. Those problems were for another age. He just stared at the screen, and smiled back.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Comments are love!


	4. Day Four: Sweet

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Tony has a popsicle addiction. Steve has a Tony addiction.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hi welcome to crake trope-a-thon on your right you'll see TRASH enjoy your stay

Tony didn’t have all that much of a sweet tooth, really. He preferred savory foods, with spice and complex flavor. He loved a burger and fries as much as the next red-blooded American, sure, but when it came to dessert, he would often pass. 

So when the Captain America-themed popsicles became available in stores, no one expected Tony to be the one that stocked up.

“Why is the fridge full of popsicles?” Clint complained one afternoon. “There’s no room for my gallon of mint chocolate chip.”

“You have a freezer on your own floor, Barton,” Tony pointed out cavalierly. “And I own all the freezers, so I get first pick.”

“You don’t even like popsicles! You’re like the only anti-ice cream guy I’ve ever met!”

Tony shrugged and tossed a signature grin over his shoulder. Clint huffed and took his giant bucket of ice cream upstairs.

After that interaction, the popsicles showed up everywhere. Tony brought them to debriefs, team meetings, and movie nights. He even grabbed one first thing in the morning and ate it with his coffee. His lips were constantly stained blue or red, drawing the eye. As if Steve didn’t struggle enough already not to stare at those lips. Tony was a teammate, not a love interest, Steve told himself firmly.

Tony coveted his popsicles, never letting anyone have one. He got into a bit of a feud with the two assassins in the tower, Natasha trying to steal one and Clint battling for space in the communal floor freezer, but Tony won out on both fronts. The team didn’t so much as open the freezer door anymore. 

After a few months of this, Steve came down to the communal floor to see Tony muttering to himself, standing in front of the freezer. When he got closer, it sounded like Tony was counting. 

“Someone get through your burglary system?” Steve asked casually. 

“Of course not,” Tony said haughtily. “They never could. No, this is much worse. They’re discontinuing the Captain America popsicles.”

“Oh.” 

“I only have seventeen boxes left, and i go through about one box a week. I have almost four months of popsicles left.”

Steve didn’t know what to say. Should he comfort Tony? Offer to go buy more popsicles? 

“The formula they use for the Cap ones is unique, don’t you see?” Tony shook his head. “I’ll never taste this sweet perfection again.”

“You could always go for the real thing,” Steve mumbled unthinkingly, then blushing bright red. 

Tony stopped and turned to stare at him. “What did you say?”

“I just–it was a joke, I don’t really expect–please forgive me, Tony, I–”

But then he couldn’t say anything else, because Tony Stark was licking into his mouth. He tasted like artificial cherry. It was the best kiss Steve had ever had. 

Finally Tony pulled back, eyeing him contemplatively. Then he grinned, laughing a little. 

“You taste almost as good as the popsicle.”


	5. Day Five: Sexy

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> So, yeah, Steve wasn’t religious. Not really.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This ficlet has religious undertones, so if that type of stuff bugs you (discussion of gods, demons are mentioned, etc) then maybe skip this one.

Steve believed in God as much as the next good little Catholic boy, but he wouldn’t call himself overly religious. After all, once you’ve seen a supposed ‘god’ throwing up into a toilet after consuming five packages of pop tarts and an entire bottle of Jäger, the idea sort of lost its lustre. 

On top of that, some of the monsters they fought as Avengers were such despicable creatures that you couldn’t help but believe in demons. They weren’t red-skinned men with horns and pitchforks, they were humans, and they lived among us. 

Still, despite his cynicism, Steve kept up a healthy positivity in his daily life. He knew the good was worth fighting for. He saw the best of good every day, and he wanted to keep seeing it. That alone was worth the fighting they did. 

Speaking of Tony Stark...

“Hey, Cap,” Tony called, waltzing into the locker room as Steve was wrapping his hands. “What’s shaking?”

Steve looked up from his wraps to say hi, but the words caught in his throat. 

Tony stood in all his near-naked glory, flushed and sweaty from a long workout. His hair was swept every which way, like he’d run his hands through it. His collar bones shimmered in a thin layer of sweat just above the neckline of his workout tank. His arms were muscled, shoulders toned, his whole core looked rock solid. He was lifting a corner of his shirt to wipe his forehead, and so Steve got a full view of his gorgeous, tanned stomach. The waistband of his gym shorts hung low, exposing the sinful vee between his hip bones. Even his legs, long and shaped, were on full display, the hem of the shorts so much higher than was probably decent. 

_This is what it feels like to worship_ , Steve thought to himself. 

“Cap?” Tony asked, waving a hand in front of Steve to get his attention. “Hello? Anyone home?”

“S-sorry,” Steve stammered. “Sorry, I uh. Lost in thought.”

Tony grinned impishly, and that set off a whole other round of fireworks in Steve’s head. “No problem, Spangles. Happens to the best of us. Hey, you going to beat up my punching bags again?”

Steve smiled sheepishly. “I was going to, yes.”

“No, come on,” Tony chided. “Don’t do that, it’s depressing to watch. Come spar with me instead.”

Steve knew this was a bad idea, especially because Tony’s skin was already heated and slick. Too close, too close to something else. 

“Sure,” he said, powerless, trailing after Tony as if under a spell.

So, yeah, Steve wasn’t religious. Not really.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> mmmmmm yummy


	6. Day Six: Deep

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Tony loves sucking cock.

Tony loved Steve’s cock. It was long and thick, but not too big, curved just slightly to the left. He loved playing with the foreskin, how it made Steve’s eye roll back in his head. He loved pressing butterfly kisses to the head. But most of all, he loved shoving it down his throat. 

Tony had been an accomplished deepthroater in his heyday, and although much of that skillset didn’t fade with time, he still felt like he had to relearn cock sucking from square one with Steve. Maybe it was because the super soldier was so sensitive, arching and shivering at every touch. Maybe it was just that Tony loved Steve’s cock so damn much, he wanted to personalize his technique until his mouth was the only mouth Steve’s dick craved.

Regardless, Tony had spent quite a bit of time “practicing” with his lips wrapped around the base of Steve’s cock. It worked out well, because once he got in that position, Steve couldn’t say anything except the most delightful whines and moans, interspersed occasionally with Tony’s name.

This was one of those times where Tony was on his knees, pressing Steve’s hips into the wall of a supply closet with one hand, and using the other to guide his prize carefully between his teeth. 

“Ughn,” Steve managed as his cock was set onto Tony’s tongue. 

_Yeah_ , Tony thought. _Me too_.

He got to work sucking softly, so softly, at the head. Steve hadn’t had the chance to get hard yet, what with Tony jumping him in the hallway, but now he was firming up quickly, making aborted thrusts under Tony’s hands. Tony curled his arm harder against his hips and bobbed his head, taking in another inch at a time. 

Before long, the full heavy thickness of Steve was sliding into his throat, cutting off his air. He looked up through his eyelashes to see Steve, cheeks flushed, staring down at him. His eyes seemed almost lit from inside, hooded and awestruck. “Tony,” he whispered.

Tony only smirked as much as he could around his mouthful and starting fucking his face onto Steve’s dick. He pushed hard, going until he felt lightheaded and Steve was gripping the back of his head with both fists. He was letting out little grunts and moans every time the head of his cock passed through the back of Tony’s throat. This was the part Tony loved, when Steve was on the edge.

“Tony, Tony, Tony,” Steve cried out, thrusting shallowly despite Tony holding him down. “Tony, m’ gonna–”

Tony swallowed convulsively around his length, holding Steve as deep as he could go, ignoring the tears that sprung to the corners of his eyes. He loved this, he loved–

Steve came with a shout, and Tony was satisfied.


	7. Day Seven: Blush

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> IT'S STILL TECHNICALLY OCT 7 OK I KNOW IM CUTTING IT CLOSE

Steve is...big.

He’s packing, hung, whatever you want to call it. There had been some enhancements from the super serum, of course, but he’d been large for his size before, too, and now, well…

“Holy shit.”

Tony was straddling Steve’s thighs for the first time—they’d just worked their way up from making out to grinding on the couch. It was their third date. The first was at a little diner in Brooklyn, where Steve had convinced Tony to split a milkshake with him. The second was a trip to Turks and Caicos, which Steve had insisted was over-the-top, but he had still enjoyed the summer sun. And now, they’d just gotten back from an art gallery opening, where Steve had stared in awe at the art, and Tony had stared in awe at Steve.

Tony had been respectful of Steve’s old fashioned values and waited until the third date, but that was ending tonight.

Except, feeling Steve’s monster cock against his thigh, he was starting to think he’d need a bit more preparation than he’d anticipated. 

Steve blushed red. “It’s, ah, sorry,” he mumbled, ducking his head. 

“Do not apologize,” Tony scolded. “That is the last thing you should be apologizing for, and, hold on, just how big are you?”

Steve’s blush did not deteriorate. Tony ran his hands down from Steve’s shoulders to his hips, glancing up for permission before feeling the outline of Steve’s dick in his pants. Steve moaned wantonly and shifted his hips.

“Holy shit,” he said again. “I’m gonna need to work up to that.”

“It’s okay if you--that is, I like--you know--um, catching? I like catching, too.”

Tony’s grin spread wide. “Of course, honey, we can do whatever you want, but rest assured that thing is getting inside me. God, you have no idea what you do to me.”

Steve groaned, and Tony rather got the idea that the feeling was mutual.


	8. Day Eight: Fight

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Rhodey isn't Tony's therapist, okay, but no one told Tony that.

“I hate him,” Tony growled, storming through his penthouse in a manner that Rhodey would probably call pacing, but he Was Not Pacing Dammit. “I hate him, I hate him so much.”

“Yes, Tony,” Rhodey agreed absentmindedly from the couch in the great room, where he was trying to beat the next level of Candy Crush. 

“You don’t understand, Rhodey. This rage that is burning inside me, this loathing–”

“Now you just sound like Elphaba.”

“Shut up!” Tony chucked a pillow at him. “I’m being serious!”

Rhodey dodged the pillow almost without trying and finally set down his phone. “Alright, then, Tones,” he relented. “Tell me all about how much you hate Captain America.”

“Not Captain America, Steve Rogers,” Tony stressed. “He’s a dick.”

“O...kay, tell me about how much you hate Steve Rogers.”

Tony immediately started off on his tirade. “He’s self-serving, self-absorbed, and thinks he’s smarter than he is. He makes judgement calls without the full picture. He keeps insisting that we do things his way, and his excuse is that he doesn’t want me to get ‘hurt’. You fucking think I don’t know how to pilot my suit?! I think if I say I can do a thing that I can’t do it? I could be saving us so much time on the field if he just let me do my damn job without having a fight every time, but no! Instead he drones on and on about ‘the safety of the team’ and ‘our highest priority’. I don’t have time to fill out paperwork every time I do a barrel roll!”

“What’s this ‘highest priority’ he talks about?”

Tony shrugs. “Some bullshit about our lives not being worth less than civilian lives. He’s blowing smoke! He wants to limit me, limit my abilities! He keeps calling me reckless, foolish, bull-headed–”

“Well,” Rhodey cut him off, “I’ll say one thing about this Captain Rogers. I’m sure as hell glad he’s the one out there fighting with you. You know, I’ve said a lot of the same things about stunts you pull.”

“Wha–Honey bear! I’m shocked! You’re supposed to be on my side!”

“Just, think about it, Tones. And maybe stop giving the guy such a hard time, yeah? He’s looking out for you.”

Tony grumbled out a cranky assent, and then threw himself down next to Rhodey. “He’s still a dick.”

“Of that,” Rhodey chuckled, “I have no doubt.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I love one (1) man and it is James "Rhodey" Rhodes


	9. Day Nine: Costume

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This ficlet is set in a world where everyone has wings, and one person (or more people, I'm poly-friendly) has the same wing pattern as you. Some people say that the person with the same wing pattern as you is your soulmate, but there's no science to back this up. People meet their pattern matches pretty rarely.
> 
> While the people in this fic are technically not in costume, I felt like wingfic was basically me dressing my fave characters in a different costume for a while so i can make them fall in love in new and inventive ways, right?

Tony didn’t believe what the superstitious people said about your wings linking you to some sort of metaphysical ‘soulmate’. There wasn’t any science, any logic behind their arguments. At the end of the day, Tony was a scientist. He didn’t believe in magic. 

Still, he sometimes wondered if the person who shared his pattern would ever come forward to meet him. It was hard to tell, anymore, with half his wings gone, but once they had been a glorious dark red, his undersides a burnished gold, and his flight primaries tipped in shocking white. He wishes he could see his wings again, just once. Even if the person attached to them wasn’t meant to be with him, like the old wives’ tale said.

Now, his wings were tattered and broken. He’d woken up in Afghanistan, pinioned and dirty, his long primaries cut, snapped in some places. He would never fly without the armor again. Even today, he kept the lower half of his wings covered by the advanced prosthetic he invented. His ugly, white primaries never saw the light of day. 

When he met Steve Rogers, Tony eyed his red, white, and blue wings suspiciously. Their pattern was similar—Tony’s red was maybe a little darker, but it fell in the same places on their wings, down to the white tips. The major difference was Rogers’ deep blue down, covering the underside of his wings. It was so pure and solid, Tony loathed to compare his now patchy gold. He shook his head. 

.o0o.

Later, after the fight was done and the aliens had destroyed half of New York, Rogers cornered Tony in a SHIELD conference room post-debrief. 

“Your wings,” he started.

Tony sighed. He knew exactly where this was going. “I fly with the armor, with technology I created. My company hopes to release a commercial model of the flight tech next year. No weapons, of course. You can Google what happened to me—has someone shown you how to Google? Good. And no, I don’t like to show people my wings without the prosthetics.”

Steve seemed taken aback for a moment. “Do folks really ask you all that invasive stuff? I was just going to say, your wings look a lot like mine used to.”

“Before the serum?” Tony asked curiously.

“I mean, yes. But they would probably look like that now if I stopped dyeing them.”

“You dye your wings?!”

Dyeing wings was still pretty taboo, even in the 21st century. That someone like Captain America would dye them was unthinkable. 

“Sure,” Steve shrugged, like it was no big deal. “You think my down looks this color naturally? No, I started dyeing it when I went on tour, back with the USO. It made the most sense for Cap to have red white and blue wings, not red, white and gold.”

“Red, white, and…”

“Still, it’s nice to see that gold again. You think SHIELD would let me stop dyeing?” Steve chuckled sardonically. “If you had white tips, we’d be wing twins.” With that, he walked away, shooting a kind grin over his shoulder. 

Tony stood staring after him for long moments, wondering if he wanted to believe in soulmates after all.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> awwww tony why didnt you say something bb


	10. Day Ten: Dream

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Steve helps Tony out of a nightmare.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay I'm late on this one but i was on a date and i forgot to post before I went out ok pls forgive me

Steve has Tony against his chest and in his arms before he’s even fully awake. 

“Shh, Tony, it’s 2013. You’re in the tower, in your penthouse. I’m here.”

Tony freezes, going rigid. Then he relaxes, breathing all the air out of his lungs in a long exhale. “Steve,” he tacks onto the end of it, almost an afterthought.

“Yes,” Steve agrees helplessly. “What was it this time?”

“I can’t…”

Steve doesn’t push, he just presses a soft kiss to the nape of Tony’s neck. Tony shudders, melts further into Steve’s embrace, then hums. 

“You’re really good at pulling me out of those.”

Steve kisses his skin again, hoping to chase away the cold sweat. “I’m glad. I would take your dreams from you in a heartbeat if I could.”

This is a familiar sentiment to both of them. Tony suffers, and Steve doesn’t like it.

“That’s not the way it works, champ,” Tony says, but it’s kind, not dismissive. He cuddles closer into Steve. They breathe in tandem.

Steve takes a moment to reflect on all the things that brought him here. He wonders when it became normal for his greatest problems in life to be nightmares. Not even his own nightmares—though, there are plenty of those, too. 

“We’re lucky,” he thinks aloud, mumbling into the wild mess of Tony’s hair. “Lucky to be alive. To be together.”

Tony gives a startled laugh. “I think I really needed to hear that, just now.”

“I mean it.” Steve draws back and urges Tony to turn until he can look into his dark eyes. The glow from the reactor lights them up just enough that Steve can see the vestiges of fear being swept from his lovers face. “I count myself the luckiest man alive to have you.”

Tony takes compliments about as well as a stubborn ox, but in the dark, wrapped in Steve and their blankets, he smiles his soft, secret smile. “You sap,” he murmurs, and leans up to press a kiss to the corner of Steve’s mouth.

Steve kisses back sweetly. “Back to sleep, Tony,” he whispers.


	11. Day Eleven: Lie

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Steve finds Tony in the corner of the workshop, two-thirds of his way through a bottle of bourbon.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Because I posted ch10 late, I'm posting this one early ;)

Tony has downed two-thirds of the bottle of bourbon before anyone even gets the memo that something might be wrong.

Steve finds him in the corner of his workshop, leaning against the leg of the most recent Iron Man armor. The suit is powered up in sentry mode, and its imposing figure standing tall over Tony’s hunched frame paints a very dark picture. 

“Tony,” Steve murmurs. “Tony, are you—”

“No,” Tony barks, downing another shot’s worth of liquor. “I’m not.”

“Oh, Tony.”

Steve waits until the gauntlet of the suit lowers away from his chest before approaching, sinking to his knees as well. He reaches out to Tony, as if to pull him into a hug, but stops short of actually touching his shoulder. 

“I should’ve done, should’ve known,” Tony was mumbling, almost to himself. 

“There was nothing you could have done,” Steve argues. “No one saw this coming. We all trusted him.”

“But he was my friend, I should have—”

“Tony, no. You can’t blame yourself for the actions of a madman. He is responsible, not you.”

Tony looks at the bourbon bottle forlornly. “I don’t want this,” he whispers. 

Steve takes this as an opportunity to remove the alcohol from the equation, swiping the bottle and setting it out of Tony’s reach or eyesight. Tony harrumphs, but obliges. 

“Let’s run through this piece by piece. Did you know what Stane was doing?”

“...I should have—”

“Did you have knowledge that he was stealing weapons and selling them to the highest bidder?”

“No! Steve, you don’t think I’d really let that go on with my knowledge!”

“No, I don’t. Did you vet Stane before hiring him to the position he held?”

“My father hired him, but I made sure he wasn’t into anything unsavory when I took over. Or at least I thought I had.”

“Did you check for irregularities in your stock? Inventory, some kind of checks and balances?”

“Yes, I’d be a fool not to.”

“Then it sounds like you did everything you could to prevent this from happening. Tony, the only thing you’re guilty of is trusting a man who practically raised you to do his job.”

Tony sits in dejected silence. Then a heated sob rings out. “Then why does it feel like I failed?”

This time, Steve does pull him into a hug. “You didn’t fail,” he insists, his voice breaking. “You didn’t.”

They stay like that, almost wrapped in each other, until finally Steve shifts.

“We should sleep. A good night’s sleep makes everything seem clearer.”

Tony huffs. “Yeah, alright.” Then, a moment later, “I’m drunk.”

Steve chuckles softly. “Come on, Tin Can. I’ll help you to bed.”

As he carries the drunk genius away, JARVIS quietly powers the armor down. Someone else is watching over Tony tonight.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Alright I think that is the last of my Steve comforting Tony ficlets for a little while.
> 
> Edit 10/27/18 I got ten days further than last year! If I keep up this year-over-year improvement, I'll be able to actually complete an october challenge in 2020 ;)
> 
> Thanks for sticking with me even though I didn't finish all 31 days. My commenters and kudos-givers are amazing!
> 
> Find me on dreamwidth [here](https://neverthelessthesun.dreamwidth.org/)!

**Author's Note:**

> Comments are love! <3 <3 <3
> 
> Edit 10/11/2018 I have had to enable comment moderation and disable anonymous commenting on this work and a few others, because I was getting rude backhanded compliments saying "Bottom Steve is the best, Tony is the worst" and similar things. I DO NOT TOLERATE bottom wank in my comments section. Even if I only wrote and posted one or the other, I would not accept this kind of talk. I want the content I generate to be a comfortable place for pretty much anyone to be, and wank does not help me do that. Be considerate of others (and the author) before you post.


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